


when skies are gray

by alfredolover119



Category: Hatchetfield Universe - Team StarKid
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Anxiety, But Oh Well., Dissociation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oh, Pre-Relationship, Roommates, almost like a reference to it ??, also its not as bad as it sounds, good game btw. highly recommend, i did not mean for this to be so dark lmaooo, i wrote the hug part before i played gg dating sim and now it is, miah is a softie at heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-12 13:40:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29510505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alfredolover119/pseuds/alfredolover119
Summary: When Gary has a horrible day at work, all he wants to do is come home and collapse into a puddle of non-existence. Miah has other plans for him.[OR: local lawyer realizes he is gay for his stupid doctor roommate,, with a healthy(?) dose of self-loathing and doubt]
Relationships: Gary Goldstein/Man in a Hurry
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	when skies are gray

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sammybammywammy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammybammywammy/gifts).



> HI !!! THIS IS FOR NICOOL'S BIRTHDAY!! I STARTED WRITING IT FOR HER IN. DECEMBER WHEN SHE HAD A BAD DAY. ORIGINALLY I DID NOT INTEND FOR THIS TO BE SO ANGSTY I AM SO SO SO SO SORRY NICOOL !! 
> 
> when i finished the first draft of this originally i did not realize that there was even any angst in this but then i reread it while editing a couple days ago and it was like!! damn!!! why did i do that!!! 
> 
> chapter 2 technically exists but its a wip and ! i am not mentally prepared to write it at this time so have this open ending
> 
> {TW for depictions of anxiety, mild anxiety attacks, and dissociation}

As the door to his office slams shut, Gary removes his glasses from his face. He folds them neatly with a _snap_ before placing them gently on his desk. He lets himself fully encapsulate the definition of the word "facepalm" before letting his head fall to the wooden desk with a heavy _thunk._ ****

It isn't that big of a deal―he is probably overreacting. Except… he isn’t actually overreacting, for once. He feels his thoughts spiraling. He lost the case and, in turn, his biggest client. He only got paid if he won, and he had really been counting on the money from this case. He isn't sure how he is going to make rent this month. 

It is on the edge of panic and with a moderate dose of self-loathing that Gary dry-swallows an anxiety pill. The chalky, bitter taste lingers on his tongue. He puts his head back down, trying (and failing) to clear his head as he waits for the medicine to enter his bloodstream. His heart is racing, and tears are threatening to spill from his eyes. 

He counts his breaths and tries to focus on anything except for the issue at hand. There is nothing he can do at this point; he has already failed. He made a mistake, and there isn't a thing he can do to fix it. He's helpless. 

  
  


It was with the feeling of absolute _un_ feeling that he fell into his car at 5 o'clock. He didn't turn on the radio, and he drove below the speed limit. He wasn’t really looking forward to the talk he needed to have with his roommate. 

His roommate. Jeremiah, the stupidly handsome, _I’m-not-rich-I’m-just-frugal_ doctor. He would probably laugh it off and tell Gary not to worry about it. He could cover rent that month. Because of course he could! He didn't even _need_ a roommate. He was probably just rooming with Gary for charity and goodwill purposes. _Save a struggling lawyer!_

Gary would, naturally, be worrying about it. Maybe even in spite of Jeremiah’s theoretical command to _not_ worry. He didn't want to leech off of Miah. Even if Miah said he didn't care, Gary did. He wasn’t a leech. He had certain morals to uphold.

As he jammed his key in the door to the apartment, he took a deep breath, steadying himself. Miah could read Gary like a book, and Gary sort of wanted to delay the needed conversation until later. As late as possible, preferably. _Never_ would actually be the preferred time. 

So, of course, before Gary could even get a word out, before his coat was off, before his shoes were untied, Miah was at his side with a simple, "You look like shit, Goldstein."

Gary might have imagined it, but Miah appeared to have Apparated to the front door. Harry Potter-style. There was a spark of concern in his eyes for a moment, before his usual mask of ‘ _eh’_ dominated his face once more. Gary didn't have the energy to decipher it. 

"That's 'cause I feel like shit, Jer." He also didn't have the energy to keep the facade of _just your average Gary_ up. Miah had already seen through him, anyway. What was the point? 

Miah, ever the angel, apparently had no further thoughts on the matter. He just hummed and helped Gary out of his coat and shoes before pulling him into the living room. Gary would never understand his roommate's strange behavior, but it made him feel warm and tingly inside, so he didn’t mind.

Gary let himself be manhandled to the couch. Miah took a step back from him. He was still close enough that he could rest his hands on Gary’s shoulders with a firm grip. From there, he stared at Gary, running his eyes up and down his body before settling on his face, where they continued flitting around lightly.

Gary flushed under the somewhat-intense scrutiny and furrowed his brow. "Miah?" he mumbled, swallowing.

Jeremiah shushed him in response, apparently very focused on the task at hand (read: staring at Gary). Gary sighed, internally submitting himself to Miah's analysis. Eventually, Miah's hands dropped from Gary's shoulders, and he shoved him back onto the couch.

"What was that about?" Gary couldn't keep the smirk off his face. 

Miah hummed as he worked to wrap Gary in a throw blanket in a rather burrito-reminiscent fashion. "I was gauging how upset you were. Your expressions are so _loud._ "

"Why does it _matter_ how upset I am?" Gary leaned into the soft blanket, grumbling just a little. Since when did his grumpy roommate care how he felt?

“If I know how upset you are, I can decide how to cheer you up, _if_ I should cheer you up,” Miah responded with nonchalance that Gary was unaware he possessed. Miah usually was over-the-top and tense in everything he did. But not then. He even punctuated his statement with a small shrug. "I should- I am."

  
“If you say so…” Gary narrowed his eyes. It was all very suspicious to him. Usually, when he came home from work in a _mood_ , he-

He didn’t know _what_ he usually did. Granted, that day had been particularly bad, but… He thought about the past long and hard. Usually, if he had a bad day, he would just grumble and mumble about it to Miah until it was out of his system. Miah would pat his back and give him a placating, _“It’s alright, Gare.”_ Was he really that abnormal today? The crease in his brow deepened further.

By the time that train of thought was at the station, he realized Miah had disappeared into the kitchen. He would have to question him further when he came back. Everything felt weird. Like he had been transported to a different dimension where Miah cared about his feelings... _Did_ Miah care about his feelings?

As he leaned back into the blanket cocoon, the day came back to him. Miah acting weird had _completely_ derailed his anxious thought patterns from earlier. It came racing back to him, but the warm atmosphere and sudden onset of absolute exhaustion muted the flood of thought. And maybe his anxiety pill was still making its merry way through his bloodstream. Thank goodness for time-released medicine. Either way, his eyes were open one second, but he was fully unconscious the next.

He woke up an undetermined amount of time later to find Miah sitting with him on the couch, reading some stupid doctor book. Gary only thought it was stupid because it was rather pointless. Miah was done with school, yet he _still_ read as many doctor books and medical journals or whatever he could get his grubby, calloused doctor-hands on. 

It was when he tried to move that Gary realized he was: _A._ laying down (which he had not been prior to his nap), _B._ partially on top of Miah, feet resting in his lap (where they had _not_ been before his nap), and _C._ still wrapped in the blanket burrito (he actually _had_ been like that prior to his impromptu nap).

He nearly rolled off the couch, feet and arms swaddled rather tightly in the blanket. Luckily, Miah steadied him with a single hand on his ankle before giving Gary a look that he interpreted as blank. “Are you awake now?”  
  
Gary felt his eyes bug out and realized that _(D.)_ his glasses were no longer on his face. He squinted his eyes at Miah, trying to silently point out that he had not consented to having his glasses removed. He didn’t know if it worked. “Do I _look_ awake?”   
  
Miah closed his book with a light _snap._ Despite his book’s slight aggression, his face remained entirely passive. If anything, Gary swore he saw a smirk growing on his face. “I wouldn’t know. You act the same asleep as you do awake. Muttering about _law and order_ and _cases_ and _subpoenas_.”

Gary snorted, somewhat against his will. “Don’t make fun of my attorney-ness. It’s all I’ve got, really.”

Though Gary’s tone and intention were light, he accidentally reminded himself that it was true, to an extent. And he had even messed _that_ up today. The infamous scowl returned.

Despite Gary not saying anything, Miah reached out and patted his shoulder, like he usually did. Gary braced himself for the incoming _It’s alright, Gare._

But instead, it never came. Miah’s hand remained steady on his shoulder and he angled his body towards Gary, pulling one knee partially up on the couch. “What’s wrong, Gare?”  
  
Struck by the unfamiliarity of the words, Gary looked up suddenly. In the back of his head, he filed away the fact that Miah’s eyes had little gray specks in them from this distance. Which was, by Gary’s estimate, _very close._ Perhaps it was his astigmatism, but had their couch always been that small?  
  
With his thought processes overlapping in every seemingly possible way, all Gary could manage was, “I fucked up. Today. I fucked up today.”  
  
Miah squeezed his shoulder comfortingly before sliding his hand down Gary’s arm to lightly grasp what would have been his forearm, barred only by the thick layer of blanket that was still holding Gary and his limbs captive. “Tell me about it.”  
  
Gary expected to see some sort of sarcasm or mockery in Miah’s facial expression, but there was nothing. Where there would usually be a touch of snark in his gaze, there was only genuine sincerity. He couldn’t help himself from melting just a little. If that “melting” included making an active decision to lean ever so slightly more into Miah's personal space… Gary couldn’t help it.  
  
He let out a brief sigh before opening his mouth to reply. However, all he could get out was, “I lost the case,” before a lump formed in his throat. He tried to swallow it, but it would not go away. Gary resigned himself to it with one final glance at Miah before he leaned his head back, eyes closed. He would _not_ cry in front of his (presumably, but now with some doubt) emotionally unavailable roommate. 

It was silent for a moment. Gary would have thought Miah had fallen asleep, or something, had it not been for the ever-tightening grip on his arm. Eventually, Miah broke the silence with a simple, “So?”

Gary was slightly relieved to find that Miah had apparently reverted back to his typical, snarky self. He sniffed before replying, “I failed.” Saying it out loud fully broke the wall, and Gary felt a singular tear slide down his face. Damn it.

“You can’t win them all,” Miah responded. He hummed for a moment, seeming to ignore Gary’s crisis. “Besides, everyone already knows you’re a damn good lawyer.”

Gary snapped his eyes open. Nobody had ever said that to him. Miah was in the same place, but he was looking at Gary with a subtle side-eye. He probably thought he was very sneaky. But Gary saw him looking. Which was why he had no qualms about fighting his way out of the blanket burrito to, by all definitions, _tackle_ Miah in a hug. 

Several thoughts crossed his mind as Miah, with some hesitation, wrapped his arms around his back. First was that he didn’t think he had ever, really, hugged Miah. A casual arm thrown over the shoulder or a pat on the back, but never really a full hug. Second was that Miah was very warm. Strange, considering how he shivered all the time and made attempts to steal Gary’s space heater in the winter. But Gary wasn’t going to look into the logistics too much. He also smelled like… Miah. Gary had never recognized it as a scent, but with his nose buried in his rusty blonde hair, it was instantly recognizable. 

Finally, probably most importantly, Gary realized he was in love with his roommate. The one he was hugging at that very moment. Jere- _fucking_ -miah. It didn’t shock him as much as it should have. It was like getting a Christmas or birthday present you had asked for, but you weren’t sure you were going to get. Thinking about it, he had probably known he was in love with Miah for some time―somewhere, internally. It was just all coming to fruition at that moment.

But there was nothing he could do about it. So he just buried his nose further into Miah’s hair. 

They eventually untangled themselves. Gary wasn’t entirely sure how long they had been... holding each other for―it could have been minutes; it could have been hours. Regardless, he couldn’t help noting that the space between them didn’t grow very much at their separation. He didn't _think_ he was imagining it. 

Gary tried meeting Miah’s eyes, just to get a sense for the mood, but Miah was staring down at his hands, which were twitching in his lap. Gary reached out to grab one as Miah quietly asked, “What was that for?”  
  
Gary continued staring at Miah, silently begging him to look up. “You complimented me. People don't _compliment_ me."

Miah shrugged. “It was nothing but the truth. And…” 

Gary peered at him. He still didn’t look up. But Gary wasn’t going to let him stop there. “And..?” 

Miah shook his head, tearing his hand from Gary’s grasp. If Gary didn’t know any better, he would think Miah was trying to back-peddle out of the situation. He almost looked flustered.

Almost. He peeled himself from the couch and, in turn, Gary. “Nothing, Gare. I just remembered there’s soup in the Crockpot. You want any?”  
  
“Miah,” Gary tried again, internally trying to resolve himself to the idea that Miah just… wouldn’t respond. He couldn't do it. “ _And?_ ”

Miah half-turned back, just enough for Gary to see him gnawing on his lower lip with probably enough pressure to draw blood. His mind was quickly drawn away from that, though, when Miah finally fulfilled his desire for eye contact. Only a glance, but it was something. Gary thought he knew Miah pretty well, but he couldn’t read the look in his eyes. Not this time. He felt as if he finally understood the phrase _“his piercing gaze.”_

Gary had lost his entire train of thought from that burning glance. And so, maybe he didn’t _immediately_ compute Miah’s eventual, actual answer of, “You deserve more. Better.”

By the time the intensity of the message got through Gary’s thick skull, Miah had disappeared into the kitchen. He had lost his opportunity to respond. Of course, Miah would come back, probably with two bowls of soup and an entirely different, _normal_ demeanor. They would put on some stupid TV show or horrible rom-com and everything would go back to normal. 

Gary should probably try to still himself, get back to Normal Gary. Put the entire night behind him, as Miah was sure to do. He didn’t think he could trust himself to do that, though. And he couldn’t take advantage of Miah’s friendship like that. He couldn't make himself think that all of that had just been a friend comforting a friend. Fuck _normal._

He might’ve hated himself a little when Miah returned to the living room with an almost uncharacteristic grin on his face and two steaming bowls of soup. He had even baked cornbread. As Miah sat down, Gary stood up. 

“I’m uh… Kind of tired?” He scratched the back of his neck. “I think I’m going to eat this in my room.”  
  
A flicker of hurt, maybe, flashed through Miah’s eyes. “That’s alright, Gary. Uh, feel better.” 

Of course, Gary had messed up again. He hadn’t even thanked Miah for all the help that night! That’s why Miah was bummed. “Thanks for everything tonight…” He paused, patting Miah somewhat awkwardly on the shoulder, “...Buddy.” 

Gary flinched at his own words. _Buddy?_ But Miah snickered at him, appearing to return to his normal, taunting self. “Go to bed, Gare.”  
  
He released Miah’s shoulder, nearly tripped over his feet, and almost spilled hot soup all over Miah in his attempt to follow the instruction. He couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face, cracking him wide open. He was such a fucking idiot. “Sir, yes, sir.”  
  
Gary stopped as he reached the entrance to the hallway. “Good night, Jeremiah.”  
  
Miah’s eyes met Gary’s. He smirked, but it didn't really look right. “Good night, Gary.”

**Author's Note:**

> one last happy birthday to nicool bc she is like,., one of my favorite people and,, of course,, my discord wife!! she deserves more than a stinky aiah fic but this is all i can produce currently so :relieved: :pensive:
> 
> anyway. check out my other aiah fics, leave me a comment, and/or check me out on tumblr @ whatsshakingbanana!


End file.
